


Last Hundred

by KomaruNaegi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Basically the tagged characters are the ones that have more than two lines, I hope you all enjoy this big gay mess, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, No Spoilers, The entire cast shows up at the end but I only tagged the characters who are of major importance, Trans Male Character, Trans!Saihara, spoiler free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KomaruNaegi/pseuds/KomaruNaegi
Summary: Being the one straight guy in what he had dubbed the "LGBT Cave Dorms" was a new experience for Momota Kaito.Of course, he definitely didn't have plans to end up in a certain hallway. One thing had led to another, and there he was. Moral support was always good, right?He's got a nice roommate too - Saihara Shuuichi. Your average dude. A good bro.And he may or may not find said roommate very cute.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to my fic! It's been sitting in Google Docs for two months, updated periodically. I finally got off my ass and finished it today. Special thanks to [cheinsaw](/users/cheinsaw) for religiously beta-ing this. This is for their V3 College AU! Hopefully, I didn't mess anything up _too_ badly.
> 
> UPDATE 4/10/18: Okay, I messed up the end _really badly_ and I’d like to apologize. It sucks, and could not have happened. Once Momota gets to the party you can just stop reading. Spoiler: (rot13 -AO3 will not let me link it for some reason) gurl trg gbtrgure va gur raq. You can still read it if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend it.
> 
> Also, deleted a line because it contained a word I didn’t know was a slur. Nothing important.
> 
> Also, this is spoiler free, in case you missed the tags!
> 
> Enjoy!

_ Kaito Momota was the straight ally. _

He’d  ended up in this dorm entirely by accident. He was supposed to go on the floor below, but apparently he’d  got mixed up with some  girl by the name of Mekuru Katsuragi, and ended up in the place for LGBT - or however that acronym went - people. Oh and allies. Like him! And so he was there.

Okay, so, it wasn’t that simple. Of course the board went to correct the mistake, but the guy he was to room with, Saihara, was pretty nice. And apparently he’d have to room with Yasuhiro Hagakure or Sonia Nevermind if he was down in the main dorms. Shuuichi Saihara seemed to be the best option, and he asked if he could stay, because fuck it, moral support is always good, right?

Chilling among his friends, studying  space ‘n shit. Life was pretty good.

It seemed he was the only straight guy there, unfortunately. Granted, it did kind of make his life easier. Most of the girls didn’t really fit his tastes, and the ones that did were  _ pretty fuckin’ gay_, to put it lightly. So he doesn’t have to worry about stupid crushes because he didn’t match up with anyone.

People would sometimes vent their problems to him, too. They’d say,  _ “Hey, Momota-kun, how do you ask someone out on a date?”  _ or  _ “What’s a cool gift to get for a guy for his birthday?”  _ and sometimes even, _“_ _What conditioner do you use?”_ People trusted him. Momota wouldn’t tell their secrets, or flirt with anyone who was outside his limits. He’d just sit there and listen, nodding his head, give his two cents, and then the other person would be on their merry way.

Even though he was a self-described “passionate dude” with a “keen eye for romance and the like,” he’d never actually had a stable relationship. He’d kissed a girl or two in high  school, but they always broke up with him after a month or two. He’d never say it aloud, but breaking off those relationships was always such a  _ relief_. Like it was a weight off his shoulders or something.

Wait - dating isn’t supposed to be like that.

_ Right? _

He’s  woken from his trance by a sigh from Saihara, his roommate. It appeared that he’d just gotten back from class. Saihara was a chill dude - really shy and reserved, but overall pretty laid back. Fun to talk to. Momota liked hanging out with him.

 _ Okay  _ \- so he thought Saihara was a  _ little  _ cute. Not like, romantic cute (probably), but  teddy bear kinda cute. The kind of cute that makes you want to pet him and wrap him up in a hug.

The world had lots of alternate universes, right? So maybe  there’s some alternate universe where he  _ is  _ gay and is kissing Saihara right now. What would that even feel like? He doesn’t know. Saihara’s skin is soft (or at least, that’s what he would think), and he had these long bottom lashes and bright eyes that weren’t quite brown, but not totally gray either. Saihara probably has these soft, small lips that’d feel  _warm _ and  _ comforting  _ and  _ safe _and he really kinda wishes he coul-

“Momota-kun!”

He blinks, looking over at the capped boy with a half-awake gaze. Saihara’s mannerisms are normal - it’s always like he’s got this anxiety hovering over him. Like he fears he could lose someone at any moment. He kinda wishes he could make that go away, but he’d have no idea how.

“Y-Your face is red… Do you have a fever?” Saihara asks, with a look that’s both sincere and worried simultaneously.

Momota brings a hand up to his face, and Saihara’s right. His cheek burns ever so slightly in his palm.

_ Wait, did thinking about Saihara make him blush?  **Him?** But he’s Momota Kaito! He’s just the run of the mill ally - what’s with a gay thought like that?!? _

“S’fine,” Momota finds himself saying, rubbing at his neck. “M’just embarrassed.”

“Did something happen?”

He finds himself looking at the other with widened eyes. Technically, something had happened. He’d had an  intrusive gay thought  about the guy  _right in front of him_.  But he hadn’t done anything today other than get up, get dressed, walk out of the building, eat breakfast, and then pass out as if it was all a fever dream, so when he says, “Nah. I just woke up.” he isn’t lying…  _ right? _

Saihara smiles, but only a little. “Okay, just checking. I was worried.”

Momota punches the other in the shoulder, but it’s friendly and light. He does it a lot, and Saihara’s gotten used to it by now.

“Thanks, bro.”

Saihara chuckles a bit.

“No problem.”

Momota gets up out of bed, swinging his legs over the mattress and stretching out his arms. He lets out a yawn that tastes like toast and cereal, and he finds himself blinking forcefully a few times in order for his brain to get the message that he’s awake.

Saihara goes over to his desk, neatly laying out his Macbook and a few notebooks. He lets out a soft yawn (Momota can’t help but think he sounds like a kitten) as he opens up the computer, typing in his password absentmindedly.

Momota scratches his head. He can’t be thinking Saihara’s  _ cute_. Saihara’s so innocent, what if he could read his thoughts?!? The poor kid would be  _ petrified!  _ He’s supposed to feel safe and accepted here, because here’s one of the few places where he doesn’t have to live a constant lie, and say that he’s a girl. And nobody cares who you fuck as long as both of you are okay with that.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, see ya,” Momota finds himself thinking, and, consequently, saying, finally standing up and giving the other a backhanded wave as he stumbles to his feet. A splash of cold water should bring him back to planet Earth.

And so he finds himself in slippers walking down the dormitory hall to the communal bathroom. It’s kept really well,  it seems to always be clean (someone said there’s a janitor there, but not like he would know who), and Momota can count how many times a toilet’s clogged with one hand.  It’s gender-neutral, so there’s lots of different “facilities,” along with too many sinks (he could count at least six), soap, and two paper-towel dispensers.

Momota is expecting it to be  decently packed. But, to his surprise, it’s empty except for one person.

“Amami?” Momota blurts out, looking at the green-haired kid in front of the sink, wearing a friendly smile like he always does.

Amami blinks, finishing a coat upon the top of his lashes before looking over, the smile not faltering. “Oh hey, Momota-kun.”

Momota blinks repeatedly for what feels like the billionth time today, but was probably only the second, if he counted correctly. Two is a really small number. Space is a lot bigger than the number two. There’s probably a galaxy shaped like the number two.

Right, right. He was in the bathroom. He should probably continue the conversation, because it wasn’t like Amami was a threat or anything. Hell, he’d probably say hi to anyone. (Except maybe that mask guy. He gave him the “heebie jeebies.” Or, in terms that people actually use, the “creeps.”)

“What’re you doing?” he asks, even though it’s clearly evident what he’s doing. Even if Amami had noticed that, it wasn’t like he’d mind.

“Putting on some makeup. These lashes may be pretty, but they sure aren’t natural,” he responds, giggling at the end. He starts to apply a coat to his bottom lashes, and it’s then that Momota notices that this guy has  _ perfect  _ nails. Not as in he thinks they’re pretty, but as in they’re perfectly rounded, and all the same length, with no hangnails. He guessed that’s what happens when you have… however many sisters he had.

“You?” he then asks, giving Momota a quick glance before looking back at himself in the mirror and blinking daintily.

“Waking up,” he mumbles, going up to one of the sinks.  Not the one next to him, because that’s a little bit too close for comfort, but the one next to that.

“I thought you were a morning person, huh,” Amami mutters, pocketing the mascara. He takes out some chapstick and starts putting it on.

“I thought so too, but I ate apple cinnamon cheerios and died,” he relents, now looking at himself. His eyebrows are out of line. He feels almost betrayed by that.

And then Amami puts the chapstick in his pocket, and gets… hand lotion.

“What the hell do you keep in your pockets anyway?!” Momota asks, almost angry. This guy wasn’t an RPG character, yet he has all this random shit in his pockets.

“Hold on,” Amami says, shoving his hands into his front pockets, and then his back pockets. “Hmm…  Two things of chapstick, mascara, hand lotion, a few cough drops, fifty-two cents, my credit card, a bowtie, my contacts, a nail file, a highlighter, and a few hairties,”  he answers.

“...You don’t even need half of that,” Momota sighs, getting some water on the tip of his finger in order to smooth out his wiry eyebrows. If there’s an eyebrow god, they surely didn’t like him.

“Guess not, but I like being prepared,” Amami answers. He then pockets the hand lotion, as Momota turns the faucet.

He cups the cold water, splashing it against his face. He squints and shakes a little, because he didn’t expect it to be as cold as it was. He then does it again.

“Hey, don’t flood the school, alright?” Amami jokes, but he does have a point.  Momota is just repeatedly splashing himself with a shitton of water.

Amami splashes a little bit of water on himself, winking at Momota. The astronaut-to-be rolls his eyes as his shoulders rise and fall.

“The avocado,” as he’s mentally dubbed him, goes to leave, muttering something he doesn’t quite bother to catch.

_Wait_.  Amami’s like,  a  _ real  _ gay. Not to say there were fake ones, but he was like, an exemplary gay. King gay. One big ‘ol motherfuckin’ (or would it be fatherfuckin’?) homo. He probably has lots of gay thoughts. Maybe he can help him out-

“Hold on,” Momota finds himself saying, immediately regretting it. He puts a hand in his pocket, making a fist.  _ Yeah, this was a shitty idea. Way to go, Momota. _

“Hm?” Amami mutters, looking back at the other, bemused. His hands are in his pockets again.

Momota finds himself wincing.  _God, fuck me_ ,  he thinks, because he can’t go back now. “H-How’d you know,” he means to ask, but his tone is flat so it sounds like a statement.

“Come again?” Amami says, tilting his head.

“H-How’d you know you were…” he starts, clenching his teeth and looking to the trash can in the corner, “ g-gay? ”

Amami just kinda snorts as the question, leaving the other embarrassed and angry.

“H-HEY! It’s a serious question!” Momota says, pointing at him.

“Relax, relax. I get asked that nearly every day. I’ve gotten used to it. Still, I didn’t expect the straightie to ask.”

_“S-Straightie?!”_ he asks, and he’s almost offended. Not like it’s untrue, but-

“So you know how Saihara-kun reads all those detective novels?”

“Yeah?” Momota answers. He wasn’t very good at solving mysteries - he had a one-track mind, and usually thought of things mere seconds before he did them.

“So, when a detective is going to solve a case, they gather clues. They look around the crime scene, the suspects, the corpse (if there is one), et cetera…”

Momota nods, not saying anything as he goes on.

“So he takes all his clues, and tries to come up with a logical conclusion. And that’s basically all  there is to it.”

Momota strokes his goatee. “So you like… thought about stuff you did and just kinda… put on a nametag?”

“Mhm,” he affirms. “I just tried to think about girls, but it never really worked, yanno?  I might’ve tried to kiss some girls, but it always just felt off. Kinda gross.”

“Okay…”

“Then I started thinking _‘What about boys?’_ and then I just noticed things, I guess? Like, how sometimes guys will show their collarbones, and I thought that was… pretty? Attractive? I didn’t know. And then I just started thinking if I liked boys, and I found the word, and I’ve only gotten gayer ever since,” he says, and he says it in a way that’s so casual that Momota’s almost impressed. Of course, he didn’t expect something like a spiritual entity going up to him and saying that he was suddenly gay and had to deal with it, but the answer he gave was still pretty simple.

"So," Amami asked, turning the conversation in his favor, "who is it?"  
  
"Huh?" Momota asked, caught off guard. He had no idea what the other was talking about.  
  
"Or, should I say..." the other started, his complacent smile warping to an impish smirk, "Who is he?"  
  
"H-He?" Momota stammered defensively.  
  
"Ah, you don't get it? I guess Saihara-kun hasn't rubbed off on you at all."  
  
"W-What do you mean, bastard?" Momota taunted, his fists now bawled.  
  
"Let me explain. So, pretend I'm you for a minute. I, Momota Kaito, the one straight guy in the dorms, and I get a single gay thought. But wait, I'm Momota Kaito! I'm straight! I can't have a thought like that!"  
  
Momota grunts.  
  
"So maybe a splash of cold water will fix me up. I head to the bathroom, and see Amami. I say hi, like the nice person I am. And I splash the cold water all over my face."  
  
Amami has Momota's attention right where he wants it - on him.  
  
"And Amami finishes up his makeup, and then I think, huh, isn't Amami gay? Amami's had to have lots of gay thoughts. Maybe I'll ask him so that way I can confirm my ever-withering sense of heterosexuality, because I shouldn't be able to relate to him."  
  
"B-Bastard."  
  
"But, you know, that's just my thoughts! Am I right?" Amami asks, eyeing Momota in a playful fashion.  
  
Momota breaks the eye contact immediately, his eyes darting from place to place. He has got to get outta here - out of the bathroom, maybe outta these dorms, outta the country - some place where t he gay thoughts can't catch him.   
  
He finds himself turning and running, only to be held back by the other gripping his wrist. He shakes his arm violently.  
  
"L-Let me go!"  
  
"Oh, come on, can you just answer my question?" Amami asks, smirk faltering as he looks at the other innocently.  
  
"YES! Okay, yes! I had a thought! And I wanted to ask you about it since you were here!"  
  
Amami smirks again.  
  
"B-But that doesn't mean shit! That was just a thought! All people get gay thoughts! I'm straight!"  
  
Amami blinks, spreading his arms in a sultry manner. "So? What kind of gay thoughts?"  
  
"T-THAT SAIHARA'S CUTE!" he finds himself  angrily shouting.  Oh, no. Oh fuck no. He had just fucked himself gently with a chainsaw.  
  
"Aaaaaw," Amami purrs, clasping his hands. "A pure maiden on a quest of love!~"  
  
"S-Shut up!" Momota barks back, his face is beet red, and Amami's gotten on every single one of his nerves.  
  
"Do you wanna see if he looks cute under you? Brush his hair out of his face an-"  
  
Momota slaps him.  
  
"I just don't want him so anxious! I wanna be able to hug 'im and cuddle 'im and be the reason he feels okay!"  
  
Amami feels his cheek, a clear marking having been left by Momota. He giggles. "That's gay, Momota-chan," he says, adding the honorific to purposefully piss him off.  
  
"I'm NOT gay!"  
  
"Have you ever kissed a girl?"  
  
"'Course I have!"  
  
"Did you enjoy it?"  
  
"..."  
  
...  
  
Amami winks, putting his hands on his hips.  
  
Momota grimaces.  
  
"Look, of course I'm not trying to make you mad. You could very well still be straight. Maybe even bi, but I digress."  
  
Momota doesn't look too happy.  
  
"But, if you wanted advice, you came to the right person. I'm always willing to help out a friend. And if a friend wants to prove he's not gay, then I'm fine with being his test subject."  
  
It's one of those times when Amami's not making sense, and Momota just rolls his eyes, and starts walking away. Amami makes no moves to stop him, but he feels some sort of invisible tension on his shoulders as he slows his steps.  
  
"Test... Subject."  
  
"Yep! I mean, how're you supposed to know if you're that indignant? If I were you I'd probably have to kiss a guy, or two, or three. And you know I'm always up for being kissed!"  
  
Momota turns and looks at him again. He has a blank expression, just a soft smile and sleep-hazed eyes, eyelashes long and soft-looking. His shirt's baggy, his pockets full, and one of his sneakers is now untied.  
  
"Well? Are you just standing here?"  
  
And Momota looks pissed as he slides over to him on his slippers.  
  
"You're an asshole."  
  
"Trust me, I know."  
  
"And I'm gonna kiss you."  
  
"Okay. Go ahead."  
  
So he walks up to him, step heavy. He breathes, because he knows that this is going to feel gross and awful, but hey, at least Amami won't have a terrible time...?  
  
And off he goes, pushing his lips into Amami's.  
  
Why doesn't it feel awful yet?  
  
Amami receives the action well, pursing his lips so that they're not just slammed against Momota's.  
  
Amami's lips are soft, and Momota can feel the chapstick on them. He feels his breath pick up, and the temperature of his face betray him as he blushes.  
  
He then also feels one of Amami's hands reach at his back, and his moves are precise and delicate. His fingers trail up along his spine, pushing Momota ever so closer into him.  
  
And Momota doesn't mind.  
  
He can even feel Amami's teeth lightly graze his bottom teeth, and he's oka-  
  
"HAVEN'T YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF-"  
  
"..."  
  
"-CLOSING THE GOD DAMN DOOR,"  Shirogane yells out, slamming the door open as she glares daggers at him.  
  
Momota finds his breath light as he tries to catch it. He hadn't noticed until now, but Amami's other hand - the one that hadn't been pushing him closer - has been entangled in his, holding on lightly.  
  
"But the door is closed?" Amami questions, looking over at her with a confused glance.  
  
"I know, I just wanted to make the reference," she giggles. She then draws her attention to Amami's hand, that's still lightly grasping onto Momota's.  
  
"OH!" Shirogane yelps, scampering over to the duo. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, eyeing the hands with all her might.  
  
Momota reflexively retreats his hand to his pocket.  
  
"WELL I'M GONNA GO-"  
  
"No! I have questions!" Shirogane pleads, pointing a stern finger at the other. "Why were you holding Amami-kun's hand?!"  
  
"Ah, I was getting started with a nice makeout session," Amami says cooly, spreading his arms as he shrugs. " But it looks like we got interrupted..."  
  
"I WAS NOT MAKING OUT WITH HIM!" Momota yelps, face now red, again.  
  
"But... Momota-kun's straight, isn't he?" the otaku asks, not even acknowledging the other's denial.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought too. But he said he had a gay thought about Saihara-kun, and thought asking me about it would be a good idea."  
  
"I see, I see..."  
  
"DON'T GO SAYING MY THOUGHTS ALOUD, BASTARD!"  
  
"So... Did you push him against the wall? Try to make him feel comfortable, and it got to this?"  
  
"Mmm, nope. I just said maybe he should kiss a guy or two, since it looks like he's got a gay crisis on his hands. And I said I was fine with being a test subject, and then he kissed me!"  
  
"I got it!" Shirogane affirms, her glasses giving a shiny glare. " _Momota-kun and the Sexuality Crisis of the Century!_ "  
  
"AH, Shut up!" the wannabe astronaut yells, stomping his foot. The others looked at him, puzzled.  
  
"Well... Did you enjoy the kiss?"  
  
Momota looks over at the trash can. He can feel a candy wrapper in his pocket, as he's desperate to get out of this scenario and never talk to anyone about it ever again.   
  
"Well, I'm always open for more, at least. See ya later, Momota-chan," Amami mutters, leaving.  
  
Momota looks to Shirogane, affirming her previous question with a nod. She gives the goofiest grin.  
  
And then Momota leaves the bathroom, eyes never breaking contact with the ground.

* * *

He opens the door to his dorm room with a sigh. He needs some time alone with his thoughts, and maybe some time to scream into his pillow too because he just kissed a guy and he liked it. (He also is forever to be haunted by Katy Perry's fake sapphic laughter as it circles around in the crevices of his brain.)  
  
The room's dark and quiet, save for a small lamp on Saihara's desk. The same stuff from earlier is there, only less organized. Notebooks are opened to random pages, and a document is open on Microsoft Word.  
  
Momota then refocuses on the screen.  
  
_ ppppppppppppppppppppp _   
  
As the letter keeps appearing on the screen, he brings his eyes to Saihara, who's fallen asleep on the keyboard. His cheek presses into the p key, as it repeatedly shows up on screen.  
  
He's on page 80 of the document - so Momota figures he's been out for a bit.   
  
He feels invasive doing it, but he gently cups his hands around the other's cheek and _fuck they're soft and cute and free of pores and-_  
  
He sighs again, resting Saihara's head on the table. That'll do.  
  
His finger scratches at the trackpad as he searches for the undo button. He hits it a few times, and he sees that Saihara stopped in the middle of a word. He can't figure out what it's supposed to be. Saihara was doing some sort of forensics paper, supposedly, and it looked incredibly detailed. He wishes he could help, but he can't wrap his head around a single sentence Saihara's written. Might as well save it.  
  
He hits control, only to remember that this is a fucking  Mac. God, he doesn't like Macs. They can't download shit.  
  
He hits command and the S key, as the computer prompts it to name the document. Saihara must've not saved it yet.  
  
All of Saihara's things are named methodically by date. "04-1-17 English Essay," and "04-3-17 Bacterium Analysis." Momota prays to Angie's god that he never has to write whatever the hell a "Bacterium Analysis" is.  
  
He's tempted to just save it as "04-27-17 Forensics Report," but he figures Saihara might accuse a ghost of saving his work, and in all honesty Momota is petrified of anything involving the occult. He goes with "hey you fell asleep so i decided to save your report -momota."  
  
He decides it's best if he takes Saihara's hat off, since he somehow had fallen asleep with it on.  
  
Again, the feeling of invasiveness hovers on his shoulders as he slips the hat off, placing it atop of one of the other's notebooks.  
  
A thin strand of hair props itself up from Saihara's head and  _oh my god that looks so stupid he wants to take a picture of Saihara's stupid cowlick-_  
  
He rolls his eyes again. No. No more gay thoughts about Saihara. That was going to be the last one. Because he's not gay. _Definitely._ He is 100% straight. Not a single gay thing about him.  
  
And that what he attempts to convince himself of as he stuffs his head into his pillow, again not bothering to change into pajamas.

* * *

The next day Momota finds himself in class - or, more specifically,  lecture hall. It's long and stupid and boring. Honestly, if it ain't about space, he doesn't quite care. He does take half-decent notes though, because he wants to get good grades. Astronauts aren't shitty students.  
  
Momota recognizes some guy that's sitting a few rows in front of him, closer to the ground. He's absorbing every bit of the lecture, occasionally nodding. He's not the best at writing, but he has good memory, so he can edit his notes later if he wants to.  
  
He remembers seeing him for the first time. Gonta Gokuhara was his name, and he sure looked scary. 6'6", red eyes and crazy long evergreen hair that went to his waist. The few conversations he’s had with the guy have him knowing that he’s an entomologist, or “bug scientist,” in terms he can actually understand. He used to come to class with his hair wild and free, but apparently he’d gotten complaints from others because it was hard to see past.

Nowadays, his hair was kept a bit better, and in a ponytail. Apparently Tenko - even though she hated boys - was willing to give Gonta a few hair tips. So now he combed his hair and wore it back in a ponytail.  
  
If anyone's a dude, it's Gonta Gokuhara.  
  
_That's it...!_  
  
Momota smirks to himself in thought, as he tries to focus on whatever the everloving fuck his professor was rambling about.  
  
The minutes are longer now, and he finds himself just wanting to sleep, but finally, _finally_ the period ends, and he's ready to say the conversation he's replayed in his head for the last ten minutes out loud.  
  
"GOKU-GONTA!"  
  
Momota Kaito, master of fucking up.  
  
"Eh?" Gonta mutters, looking around. He stops, noting Momota in the back. He waves.  
  
"THANK YOU!"  
  
Oh for fuck's sake.  
  
Momota makes a motion with his hand, trying to tell Gonta to come towards him. But Gonta only looks at him, head cocked to the side. He was totally clueless.  
  
Asking that guy will probably be easier from up here anyway.  
  
"DO YOU WANT TO GO GET SOME TEA OR SOMETHING?"  
  
"REALLY?"  
  
"YEAH. ARE YOU FREE?"  
  
"GONTA IS 50 PERCENT OFF!"  
  
"WHO TOLD YOU THAT?"  
  
"OUMA-KUN!"  
  
"GODDAMNIT!" Momota yells, bringing his palm to his face. Ouma deserves another slap, even though he has, supposedly, gotten 8 slaps from  Harukawa in these first two months alone.  
  
"DO YOU HAVE ANY PLANS IN THE NEXT TWO HOURS?"  
  
"NO. IS YOUR THROAT SORE?"  
  
"NO- WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT?"  
  
"GONTA HAS GOOD INTUITION!"  
  
Momota sighs. How did  Gonta  manage to talk to _Maizono?!_ She's a junior, if he remembers correctly, and she is definitely not in the  LGBT "cave" dorms. How did _Gonta_ get to talk to chicks and he didn't?!  
  
Did he catch Amami's gay aura from yesterday?! _Shit_ , he needs to shower! He took one this morning, but still! He has to get rid of the gay!  
  
And then Gonta is picking him up, bridal-style.  
  
"A-AH GONTA WHAT THE SCRIBBLE BISCUIT-"  
  
"Scribble biscuit?" Gonta asks, bemused. His scarlet eyes peer into Momota's violet ones with such innocence, and he hates it. Yes, he hates it. He hates the feeling he feels in his chest right now, and the giggle Shirogane's making in his head.  He hates it.  
  
"M-Momota-kun, you're blushing! G-Gonta thought you fell asleep!" Gonta shouts, as he begins to redden himself.  
  
Fuck! Fuck!  _ Fuckity fuck! _   
  
This isn't just a normal fuck, this is an  astronomical fuck!  
  
"E-Eh.. Um. UM. UM-"  
  
Gonta starts petting his head.  
  
It is at this point when Momota Kaito dies. Gokuhara Gonta has cradled him in his arms and is petting him like a cute little puppy, and he doesn't know why. And he's enjoying it. It's so domestic and strangely romantic and he wants to fall asleep here, right here in Gonta's arms. He wants to take this moment and store it in his head forever. He wants to drink it down, appreciate the high that is this moment-  
  
"A table for two please!"  
  
Momota falls straight on his ass.  
  
His mind's blank, for the most part. He knows he must've been carried- no, escorted, by Gonta here, to this niche café in the middle of... somewhere. He remembers seeing buildings, the ones at the back of his brain familiar, the ones in his more recent memories foreign.  
  
So, if he's getting this right, he got so lost in the maze that is his sexuality that he spaced out (how ironic, he thinks) until right now.  
  
His ass hurts.  
  
Begrudgingly, he stands up, rubbing his head. The hand falls down his face, transferring to his mouth as he lets out a yawn. Having gay thoughts is tiresome.  He doesn't have the energy to be  gay.  
  
He spaces out again, and before long he's at a table, with Gonta sitting across from him. Gonta is giddy, and he'd make some sort of bug pun if he could think of one. His hands are folded on the table, and his legs swing back and forth.  
  
Gonta kicks Momota by accident, causing him to stop his legs short. He pales, looking at Momota.  
  
"Ah, Gonta's so sorry! He didn't mean to hurt you!"  
  
Momota lets out a snicker. "S'okay. Don't worry about it."  
  
"R-Right!" Gonta says, giving a smile that looks like it could falter at any moment. His legs are no longer swaying, and are instead bouncing. Momota can tell because the table shakes ever so slightly.  
  
He decides to ignore it.  
  
Gonta gets hot chocolate, and he gets bubble tea. They're both silent, taking sips of their respective drinks. Every so often, one goes to make eye contact with the other, but once it happens they both retreat.  
  
"Yo, dude, what's wrong?" Momota asks, looking at him.  
  
"Ah! You noticed?" Gonta asks, looking at Momota with a shocked expression.  
  
"Yeah, dude. Your left leg's been bouncing the whole damn time..."  
  
"G-Gonta must use the bathroom!" the other yells.  He power-walks away from the table.   
  
...What's that about?  
  
Momota lets him go, looking at the bubbles in his bubble tea. He grabs the straw and swishes in around, idly watching as the bubbles roll around in the bottom of the plastic container.  
  
He sighs, resting his chin in his hand. Either Gonta's taking a really long time, or he's exaggerating the minutes.  
  
He checks his phone - it's probably been a good ten minutes since Gonta headed to the bathroom.  
  
As each minute goes by, he gets more and more anxious. Had something happened? Did he do something wrong?

After seventeen minutes, Momota decides to check up on Gonta. He goes to the guy's room in a huff.  
  
Bursting through the door, he sees Gonta, his glasses off. He's vigorously washing his face which is... red for some reason.  
  
"K-Kaito?" Gonta stammers quietly, looking at the other with concern.  
  
"Yo, dude, you okay? It's been almost twenty minutes. Your hot chocolate's definitely cold..."  
  
"Ah, Gonta's sorry..." the taller of the two sheepishly replies, scratching at the back of his head. He looks to the ground.  
  
Momota strides up to him. "...D-Did somethin' happen? If you don't wanna-"  
  
"N-No! Nothing happened, it's just..."  
  
Gonta lets out a breath, and his shoulders slump. A small giggle escapes from his lips.  
  
"Gonta didn't mean to make this a bad date for you, Kaito-kun."   
  
_ "D-Date?!?" _  Kaito yelps, face flushing. He clearly wasn't expecting him to call it that.  
  
"Eh? Is this not a date?!" Gonta asks, bewildered.  
  
"U-UH... Maybe... Um... I don't know, um..." Momota mumbles, shivering.  
  
Gonta embraces him suddenly. He rubs Momota's back haphazardly, and Momota awkwardly hovers his hands above the fabric of Gonta's jacket.  
  
"D-Does Momota-kun feel better now?" Gonta asks, face red as he steps back.

"You were callin' me Kaito earlier..."  
  
"Ah, right! Kaito-kun!" the aspiring entomologist corrects himself, bowing.  
  
"And... Yeah. I feel better. Thanks," Momota adds, a sheepish smile on his lips.  
  
Gonta closes the distance between them a bit, and he stars leaning in towards Momota's face.  
  
Wait- hold on! Not this again, he isn't ready-  
  
_Oh._  
  
Gonta rubs his nose against Momota's tenderly, smiling and giggling as he does so.   
  
Momota feels so stupid, but he rubs his nose back.  
  
Gonta hugs him again, and, to end the whole gesture, he pecks Momota on the lips, chaste and quick.  
  
Oh boy. That was  way too _cute_ _._  
  
He keeps thinking about it, even when they leave the café hand-in-hand.

* * *

Momota wearily forces his eyes open, looking at the  glow-in-the-dark stars  he had put on the ceiling. He doesn't think of anything in particular, opting instead to appreciate the morning sun peeking through the blinds and the warmth it currently gives him.  
  
He rolls over in bed, grappling on the bedside table for his phone. After a few misplaced slams, he locates the device, grabbing it and then rolling back to his original position. He lazily lifts the phone so that it's parallel to his face.  
  
He clicks the lock button, noting the time - which just so happens to be 1:20 P.M.  
  
Groaning, the wannabe astronaut accidentally drops the phone. He winces, but makes no moves to pick it back up again. He'd already slept in this long, so sleeping in further only seemed logical he closing his eyes, momentarily resting until he hears a short "ping."  
  
Groggily, he grasps at the phone again. It's a string of numbers that he can't identify.  
  
_ yo is this momota? its amami!  ;3c _   
  
Momota can't help but roll his eyes at the text. Was that a cat emoji? He thinks it is, but he can't tell for sure.  
  
_ yeet _   
  
He throws the phone to the side of the pillow, rolling over. He clenches the galaxy-print comforter tightly in his hands, rubbing his head against a pillow so worn out that it's practically pancake flat.  
  
_ so hows your quest to kiss every boy on the floor goin _   
  
When the phone first buzzes, he ignores it. But apple phones like to do that thing where they buzz for the same text twice, and Momota angrily flips his body over, making sure to lock the phone's rotation as he goes to key back a response.  
  
_ im not kissin every dude thats too gay _   
  
Amami begins to type a response, but suddenly the dots disappear. Instead of words, Momota is then greeted by a picture. Amami has set his contact info to "space dood" and his icon is some anime character he doesn't recognize.  
  
_i guess thats okay but who is that_  
  
_hes from ensemble stars! its like love live but boys_   
  
Momota finds himself rolling his eyes, because that's the exact kind of thing Amami would be into. He really did like boys.  
  
** space dood ** : anyway what did you do yesterday  
  
After another text, Momota decides to put Amami in as a contact. He goes in as "Amameme" and his icon is a tree, because he can't think of anything better, and it's not like he actually has a pic of him. He then sends it over.  
  
** space dood ** : yesterday i went to the cafe with gonta  
  
** Amameme ** : !!! omg  
  
** Amameme ** : u can use this pic of me btw  
  
Amami sends over a picture, and it's of him in sleepwear. He's giving this sultry wink, a finger to his mouth.  
  
** space dood ** : :/ is this your bad way of flirting with me  
  
** Amameme ** : nonono vghhgvh  
  
Momota scoffs in real life, opting to finally sit up.  
  
** space dood ** : so wht r u textin me for  
  
** Amameme ** : ohoho?  
  
** space dood ** : dont  
  
** Amameme ** : :3c?  
  
** space dood ** : shut ur fuck  
  
** space dood ** : amami answer the got damn question  
  
** space dood ** : *god damn  
  
** Amameme ** : its got damn now  
  
** space dood ** : -_-  
  
** Amameme ** : holt shit i didnt think anyone still used that emoji  
  
** space dood ** : holt shit  
  
** Amameme ** : ¿  
  
** space dood ** : now its my turn to make fun on your typos  
  
** Amameme ** : oh no that was intentional lmao  
  
It takes all of Momota's strength to not throw the phone in that moment.  
  
** Amameme ** : SO... howd it go with gonta...  
  
** space dood ** : it went as well as u can imagine  
  
** Amameme ** : do go on  
  
** space dood ** : what else do you want me to say  
  
** Amameme ** : did you get any tongue  
  
** space dood ** : NO YOU THIRSTY BINCH  


**space dood** : *BITCH  
  
** Amameme ** : woebdkevrhei  
  
** Amameme ** : im proud of your gay soul finally awakening  
  
** space dood ** : look i dont have a good argument but maybe its just a phase  
  
** Amameme ** : buddy thats. thats not how it works  
  
** Amameme ** : there is no gay phase  
  
** space dood ** : WELL MAYBE IM HAVING THE FIRST GAY PHASE IN THE HISTORY OF MAN YOU WOULDNT KNOW  
  
** Amameme ** : thats because i work at gay mart 24/7  
  
** Amameme ** : and you just sent them ur resume  
  
** space dood ** : nobody would go to a place named "gay mart" except for you  
  
** Amameme ** : Ouma would  
  
** space dood ** : shiro says he has a piss kink im sure he would  
  
** Amameme ** : you know  
  
** Amameme ** : ouma having a piss kink does not seem too surprising  
  
** Amameme ** : i feel like hes pissed in my ass in an alternate universe  
  
** space dood ** : YOU ADMIT THAT SO CASUALLY  
  
** Amameme ** : a lot of weird people come into gay mart  
  
Momota decides now is a good time to get dressed. He decides to roll off the bed in a literal sense, not minding as his face collides with the ground.  
  
He hears his phone buzz again.  
  
** Amameme ** : Try not to have  any  gay encounters in public bathrooms, kay?  
  
Who the absolute fuck told him that?!   
  
The following moments are ones that are instantaneously deleted from his memory. He doesn't remember getting dressed, or walking over to the school's "dining hall," or getting macaroni-n-cheese (seriously, what a pity food), but there he was.  
  
And there's Ouma.  
  
Oh, he's sitting at his table.  
  
Well, whatever.  
  
"Ohayougozaimasu, Momota-chan!"  
  
Momota swallows down noodles that have been stuck in his mouth so long that the cheese have left them. He groans.  
  
"I don't speak  weebanese."  
  
Ouma lets out one of his signature giggles, pulling back the chair and sitting his ass down like there's no problem.  
  
Momota decides to ignore it, again letting cheesy noodles sit in his mouth as he sucks at the cheese on them. He's bad at eating macaroni-n-cheese.  
  
Ouma's legs swing back and forth, starting to kick the other in a light rhythm.  
  
"Seriously, whaddya want?!" the wannabe astronaut snaps, glaring at Ouma.  
  
"I just wanted to talk to you!" Ouma says innocently, again with a smile that feels all too natural for Momota's liking.  
  
"I didn't make a study guide or some shit," Momota utters like it's a mantra, stretching and leaning his arms back.  
  
"No, no! About your love life! Let's talk about your love life!"  
  
Momota raises a brow at him. Why'd this  purple asshole care about his love life?!?  
  
"I keep seeing you in the cafeteria, staring into the distance so wantonly-"  
  
Momota almost chokes.  
  
_"WANTONLY."_  
  
He sputters some more, needing time to recollect himself.  
  
"What? It's just a word!" Ouma sneers, disappointed.  
  
"S-Sorry dude. 'wantonly' or whatever just makes me hungry for wontons... Like that moment on FoodNet when the lady forgets the wontons and the guy goes," he gasps, _"the wontons..."_  
  
Ouma slaps the table, and erupts in laughter. The two get a few perplexed glances, but neither of them care because in this moment wontons are fucking hilarious.  
  
Ouma finally takes a deep breath as a sign to continue their conversation.  
  
"So, Momota-chan, tell me why you keep staring off into the distance with flushed cheeks and a raging boner!"  
  
"WHAT-"  Momota deadpans, checks to his lap, and Ouma bursts into another peal of laughter.  
  
"Nishishi! I was lying! Well, about the boner part..." he mutters cooly.  
  
Momota slumps over the table, resting his head in his hands. "Are you really that curious?"  
  
"Of course I am!" Ouma replies instantaneously. "When you're going to be president, you need to know about everybody's love life!"  
  
Momota diverts his gaze, wondering how there's any correlation in what Ouma had just said.  
  
"Did you fall in love with Saihara-chan and are now having a gay crisis?" he asks.  
  
"HOW DID YOU-"  
  
Ouma looks at him and blinks.  
  
"Oh my god-"  
  
He brings a hand to his chin, and starts violently giggling.  
  
"YOU FUCKER-"  
  
"I-I need some water hohoholy shit," Ouma says, and runs from the table. He returns two minutes later, his face still contorted in that all-knowing smirk.  
  
"I can't fucking believe that wild guess was right..." he sighs, sitting back down. Momota forcefully slams his head against the table.  
  
"You gonna confess?" Ouma asks, looking down at Momota. The other strains his eyes to look up at him.  
  
"Aww, no answer? Come on, I'm great at love! Let me be your counselor!" he offers, smiling.  
  
Momota picks himself up, and crosses one leg so that his foot rests against his thigh. He lets out a grunt that can only be described as "stereotypically anime," and looks to the weird modern art that's on the wall.  
  
"When did you fall?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"When'd you fall in love with Saihara-chan?"  
  
Momota's face scrunches - that purple twinky fucker must've been teasing him. "I haven't 'fallen in love' or whatever, I just think he's kinda cute!"  
  
"Am I cute?" Ouma asks sweetly, batting his eyes.  
  
"Fuck no!" Momota yells back.  
  
"Then what's Saihara-chan that I'm not?"  
  
"Saihara's, like, a decent human being," Momota scoffs.  
  
Ouma temporarily blanches, and it seems that Momota's struck a chord. He just giggles his way out of properly responding to him.  
  
"He is pretty good, isn't he?" Ouma mutters, staring off wistfully in the direction of another one of those weird modern art pieces that line the cafeteria's walls.  
  
Momota doesn't make an attempt to continue the conversation from there, losing himself in thought. He perks up again when the other calls out "Oiiiii! Chaba-chan!"  
  
"Tenko's surname is Chabashira!" the aikido practitioner corrects him, clearly offended.  She has a brown tray in her hands, meaning she  got lunch from here. She probably kept her  pass in her pocket, like a normal person, instead of just laying it on the table like he does.  Momota has no clue as to what's on the tray, but he just assumes it's something that's either really healthy, really Japanese, or both.

"But Chaba-chan is way more fun to say!" the smallest of the three whines, puffing out his cheeks. Even though they've only been students for two months, everyone knows that this gesture is only a fake one that's meant to sway them. Tenko decides to ignore it.  
  
"Ay, where's Yumeno?" Momota questions, finally snapping out of his daydream. It was obvious that Yumeno and Tenko had been dating - the two were barely ever seen apart. So seeing one without the other almost felt... strange.  
  
"Oh! Himiko-chan is over with Yonaga-san for a  study session.  Tenko's not in their class, so she decided to go get herself lunch."  
  
"Ah, you finally got on the first name basis! I'm proud of you, Chaba-chan!"  
  
Tenko flushes, nervously scratching at the back of her head.  
  
"Since Yumeno-chan and Angie-chan are gone, wanna sit with us?" Ouma offers. Momota quickly does the sign of the cross - in part for himself, and in part for Ouma after that suicidal move.  
  
Tenko's face contorts to one of disgust. "Sitting with such awful _men_ is far from preferable... But Tenko gets lonely easily. So she supposes she'll sit with you just this once."  
  
Ouma smiles, moving himself accordingly. The table is clearly meant for just two people, but since Momota isn't taking up much space with Powerade and mac-n-cheese, it ends up working out.  
  
Ouma is far from a good eater.  He takes spoonfuls out of his granola-yogurt cup, and then takes a bite out of a cookie that's bigger than his hand (although, that doesn't say much, because he has small hands), and then takes a bite out of the sandwich in front of him - it appeared to be butter and peanut butter. What kind of fuckin' sandwich was that?  
  
"Say, Momota-chan," Ouma starts, earning a raised eyebrow, "maybe Chaba-chan could help you out with your problem?"  
  
"Ah, if Momota-san is looking to get more fit, Tenko suggests Neo Aikido!" the girl in question replies. "A true aikido master has a strong heart, and a strong body!"  
  
"No, no!" Ouma chirps. "Momota-chan needs love advice!"  
  
Tenko has a blank expression on her face.  
  
"If you wrong any girl on this campus, my wrath will _not_ be an easy opponent."  
  
Momota nods knowingly. Even if she had a girlfriend, it couldn't be denied that Tenko had an affection for all girls, and would put herself in harm's way if she found another hurt.  
  
More tasteless macaroni noodles slide down his throat. Nothing's changed - the idle chatter that surrounds them is still there, and he can feel the air conditioning on his neck - but the whole atmosphere feels tenser. He feels vulnerable, as if something will strike at him suddenly.  
  
"Momota-san?" Tenko asks curiously, looking over at him with a concerned stare.  
  
"W-Why..." Momota finds him stammering over his words, the same way he had done a few days ago in the bathroom with Amami.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
_ "WHY DO YOU LIKE GIRLS?" _  Momota spits out, eyes closed tight and face contorted.  
  
Tenko simply looks at him. She blinks twice, and swallows.  
  
"Tenko... knows that the soul of a girl sparkles. The soul of a girl glimmers with a special kind of glow that just... isn't seen in other places," she explains. "A girl makes you feel safe, and at home. A girl makes you feel complete, whole. A girl is like a piece of Tenko, once lost, but then found again amidst life and its ups, downs, and sideways... Tenko can look at a girl and see herself in her. Girls are the keyholders who can conjure dreams and fantasies... Tenko has always felt tethered to the female soul. Girls are a part of Tenko, and Tenko is a part of girls. Girls make Tenko's heart swell with joy, and swim with compassion. She can find herself in a girl, her sparkling eyes... Tenko can sit with a girl and lose herself, their fingers wrapped together... It is when Tenko is sure of herself, in a girl's presence. Her heart is locked to them."  
  
Momota simply blinks at her.  
  
"Tenko thinks... Falling in love is when you know you cannot get up."  
  
"Like those life alert commercials?" Ouma interrupts.   
  
"Yes! Exactly like that... It is when you find yourself lost in a person. Love is when you are not only someone else's physical desire... It is of being best friends! Love is when you're forever bound to each other in a way that cannot compare to others! It is when you find yourself, in someone who isn't even you."  
  
Momota gets up and leaves the cafeteria.

* * *

He stumbles into his dorm room with heavy eyelids, tired of seeing things that don't make sense.  
  
"Momota-kun, are you okay?"  
  
It's Saihara's voice, concerned and soft. He probably said that out of habit - it wasn't something he had to think about. He just said it because he's a kind person.  
  
"Nhaaaa... I've been kinda in a slump," Momota grumbles, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.  
  
"...Did you wanna talk about it?"  
  
Of course he wants to - he wants to tell Saihara that he's so damn cute and cup his cheeks and put his head on his chest as his heart beats, but he can't. _He just can't._  
  
(Well, he could, but he won't let himself.)  
  
"Hey, Shuuichi."  
  
It's the first time he's ever called him by his first name - aloud, at least. He thinks it's a pretty name. Everything sounds pretty when you're emotionally dead and drunk on romance you feel shouldn't even be yours.  
  
"...C-Could I hold your hand?"  
  
Saihara looks at him with those starstruck eyes he seems on him sometimes. He likes it when he looks like that - lost in awe, in pure amazement.  
  
"S-Sure."  
  
Momota sits on the side of Saihara's bed, and he takes off his jacket. He throws it over on his own bed on the other side, and he waits - foot bouncing nervously.  
  
Saihara shuffles over to him, also nervous. He looks over to the window at Momota's side of the dorm, eyeing the full moon that shines through the windowpanes.  
  
Momota's hand shakes as he slides over to him. He then clasps Saihara's hand in his own. Saihara whimpers - it must've been a bit too tight. He loosens his grip a little, but it's still tight. Saihara's hand wiggles in his, and Momota runs his fingers over it.  
  
"Yer skin's dry," Momota notes, looking at their hands clasped together.  
  
"Ah, yeah..." Saihara murmurs, looking to the nightstand by his bed. "I wash my hands a lot, so my knuckles get dry."  
  
"Yo, I'll buy you some hand lotion," Momota says, and he means it - as much as buying hand lotion for your best friend could mean.  
  
"...Your nails are short?" Saihara comments, trying to match Momota's action.  
  
"Ah, yeah. I cut 'em all the time," Momota mutters. "S'nice."  
  
"Amami does manicures... I... think you'd look nice with purple nails..."   
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Momota looks over to a corner of the room to make a mental note of this.  
  
Momota scoots over to Saihara, trying to make a slightly romantic move, or something.  
  
Saihara doesn't seem to mind when their shoulders touch.  
  
Momota feels like his heart is swimming. It feels content. Nothing special is happening, it's not like in the fanfics Tsumugi talks about. There's no light, there's no sudden realization, there's no sudden makeout or teary-eyed confession of eternal undying love. It's just the two of them, sitting arm to arm, looking out at a darkened navy sky speckled with stars.  
  
_It's absolutely_ **_ perfect. _ **   
  
"Oh, yeah, Momota-kun, speaking of Amami, he says he's having a party tomorrow at... Um... Nine! Yeah. 9:00 P.M. tomorrow."  
  
"Huh? Whozit for?" Momota asks.  
  
"I... don't know. He didn't say. He just texted me and told me to forward the info to you," he admits.  
  
Even as he shifts his posture, he makes sure to keep their hands linked. Momota appreciates it. Even if his dumb, gay fantasies are never reciprocated, never true, he can at least know that Saihara can deal with his company.  
  
"Okay. I'll come. S'at his dorm, right?"  
  
"Mmm."  
  
As he drinks up what's left of the moment, Momota can't help but smile.

* * *

He blinks his eyes a few times, and he can taste mint toothpaste in his mouth.  
  
After laying there motionless for a few minutes, he turns to the clock on his nightstand.  
  
9:05 A.M.  
  
He debates what he should have for breakfast. Today isn't a cereal day, nor is it a pancake day.  
  
Today is a waffle day. Either that, or the ghost of 2007 has decided to arise and show its ugly face.  
  
(But, as most would agree, there was only one good thing to come out of 2007. Such being Super Mario Galaxy.)  
  
Fresh boxers, fresh tee, basketball shorts, and that galaxy-print jacket, with only one arm properly in the sleeve. Mouthwash then stings at the side of his mouth as he gargles it, spitting it out to look at himself in the mirror with half-lidded eyes. He plucks the space between his eyebrows, then throws the tweezers in the little ceramic dish on the sink. He stretches his arms.  
  
The walk around campus is a dull one, especially considering today is one of those days where the sky is gray and it looks as if it could rain any minute. For a moment, he stops, looking directly up at the clouds. A drop of rain lands on the bridge of his nose, startling him.  
  
He blinks, snapping himself out of whatever lost moment he'd just been in. The stroll to the "dining hall" isn't a particularly long one, but that doesn't mean that it isn't grating, especially as he can feel more and more droplets of rain on the side of his face.  
  
He doesn't say anything as his messenger bag drags on his arm. The flight of stairs feels especially grating today, but he goes and ascends because he is going to get that waffle and the rain cannot stop him. He hears a clasp of thunder from outside and jumps, losing his footing for a moment. He sighs, catching his breath as he makes his way towards a vacant seat.  
  
The lunch line is full of murmurs, as people talk about exams and papers and how Hajime Hinata was found dead in Miami. (Or, less eloquently put, sprawled out on the floor in Chiaki Nanami's dorm with a bottle of Jack in his hand, a smirk on his face, and tips of his hair dyed in fluorescent neons. Momota sometimes wonders what goes on in the "normal" dorms.)  
  
He shows some faceless employee the stub of his lunch ticket, and walks over to spread a bit too much syrup on his waffle. He lets out a yawn as he realizes that he'd totally forgotten butter, or to even toast the damn things, but it's nothing whipped cream can't fix. He rips some napkins as he grabs them from the dispenser, but again, he doesn't care. Another clap of thunder echoes outside as he sits down in his chair.  
  
He pulls out his laptop, not caring as it clunks against the table. Cold, thick chunks of waffle meet his teeth as he signs in, typing whatever nonsensical string of letters he had set for his password. He loads up Microsoft Word, and takes out a calculator. He has a paper due tomorrow, but he's never really been keen on paying attention to one thing at once, and figures doing the calculations that are due next week for physics isn't that bad of an idea. He logs onto twitter, sighing as he sees the lives of his more interesting friends play out.  
  
He's been so obsessed with Saihara that he hasn't done jack shit in the past few days. And what he has done today has been dull, tired, an unmotivated. It's like he's Yumeno. But even then, Yumeno seems a bit more lively as of late. There's pictures of her smiling on twitter, and she can see her with Tenko at the dojo. On Tenko's account there's footage of her punching a punching bag, and he can hear Angie's giggles in the background. There's a picture of the three of them at the poolside, and he can identify each of their feet with their neon nails. Amami's been tagged in the caption, so the manicure thing must be true. He guesses pedicures are something he does as well.  
  
Is that what being in love's like? Is it bright and watery and fun?  
  
Momota groans. He tries to focus on one of the many conversations going on around him, but they're all equally boring. He types a header on his document, sets the spacing to 2.0, and begins rambling on about some book he hadn't even read. Thank God for Sparknotes.  
  
Hours pass on by, and he finally finishes the paper, a yawn escaping his lips. God, he's so damn bored. The remains of his waffle have been sitting there for a while. He chuckles, because normally he isn't the type to just let trash collect like that, yet that's been by his side for a solid three hours. He throws it away.  
  
Going back to the table, he cocks his head to the window. The sky's no longer that gray, instead a bright blue, with a cloud or two floating in it. The cafeteria's emptied some, and he can see new faces, and hear new voices. He can hear a bird chirp a cheery tune from outside.  
  
He smiles.  
  
The walk back from the cafeteria to the campus is better. There's a bit more power to his step, and he decides to wear a smile. The sun feels nice against his skin, even though it's almost 6:30, meaning it'll be setting soon.  
  
He remembers the party Saihara had told him about, and gets all the more excited. He really could use a party to get back in his comfort zone.  
  
He knows he'll regret it, but he decides to go into a sprint. It isn't long before his calves start burning, but he ignores it.  
  
He notes a few others as he goes on by - Tenko, who looks confused for a moment, but he can see her giving a thumbs up in the distance, Amami, who simply giggles, and Saihara, next to Amami, carrying a few grocery bags. Saihara looks like he's a bit embarrassed by Momota, but Momota simply winks at him. Saihara looks to the ground in shame as Amami pats his shoulder.  
  
By the time Momota makes it back to the dorms, he is a glob of sweat. He checks his phone.  
  
**Detective Friend** : Amami and I are going to the 7-11 outside of campus to get some food for the party and then we're going to Target for supplies. See you later!!  
  
Momota grins again. This stupid party is the exact kind of pick-me-up an extrovert like him needs! He's gonna have a great time, and he knows it.  
  
He jumps into the bathroom, ready for another shower. He's going to look perfect for this party.

* * *

When 9:00 finally arrives, he’s sitting on his bed in the middle of watching the trailer for the latest Cars movie. (He can’t believe they killed Lightning McQueen. What assholes.)  
  
He bounds out of his door, sliding down the hallway on his slippers. He doesn’t see anyone in the hallway, which is frankly rather strange, but he presumes it’s probably ‘cause they’re all at Amami’s.  
  
He raps the door.  
  
“Yo, Momota Kaito comin’ at ya live!”  
  
No response.  
  
He goes from knocking to furiously slamming on the door a few times. Again, no one greets him.  
  
He sticks his ear to the door, thinking that maybe everyone’s so caught up in partying that they hadn’t noticed him. As he leans in for a closer listen, he stumbles, the support of the door leaving him as he realize that it’s unlocked.  
  
He tip-toes in cautiously, only to see that the lights are off. He hears the sound of people shifting in their places - so someone definitely has to be there.  
  
He places his hand to the wall, tentative as he searches for the light switch. It’s in the same place it would be if it were his and Saihara’s dorm. He twitches slightly as he turns it on.  
  
The next three seconds of his life are filled with party poppers, balloons bursting (whether intentionally or not, he couldn’t tell,) and screams of every sort.  
  
“CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING GAY, MOMOTA KAITO!”  
  
And then, in the blink of an eye, everyone is suddenly visible, and clapping.  
  
Everyone he’s ever known on the floor is there. It’s like a bad chemistry concoction of a fake tumblr story and John Mulaney humor, and he’s living it.  
  
“What the fuck,” Momota utters in a monotone. “Who’s idea was this. Who said I was gay. I’m not gay. Never have been. Ever. Probably. Yea-HOLY SHIT IS THAT A GREMLIN,” he chokes, backing towards the wall in complete fear.  
  
"No," Harukawa says, the same monotone she always has. "That's a cryptid."  
  
"Yeah... Right..." Momota relents, letting out a sigh.  
  
"Hoshi. Ryouma," he says curtly, extending his tiny little hand. Momota wearily shakes it.  
  
"E-Excuse me," an electronic voice asks from the back of the room. It must've been Iruma's  project. Keebler? Kibou? Kibb? Something like that.  
  
"What is a cryptid?"  
  
Shinguuji turns to him, as he lets out a chuckle. He goes into some sort of explanation that Momota doesn't bother to listen in on.  
  
The party starts around him, but Momota can feel himself leave, mentally. His body is still there, in tact, but his mind's in fifty other places.  
  
Amami Rantarou had just outed him to the entire floor.  
  
"If I may ask, how did you manage to get Hoshi-kun here?" Toujou asks, clearly impressed.  
  
"He has my number. No idea how he got it. But I ain't missing something if he goes out of his way to call it a 'Coming Out Party.'"  
  
Suddenly, the realization strikes through his chest like a spear.  
  
"I-I'm not _gay_ ," he mutters all of a sudden, in an attempt to try and calm his nerves. He can feel something coming. Something is about to happen. He can feel himself about to lose it. This is bad, very bad.  
  
"Oh, no, you've been gay your whole life," Amami retorts. "You've just been in denial and ran away at every chance you got until it pounced on you."  
  
_"Rrrrrrrrarw,"_ Ouma purrs at the 'pounced' comment, sending a knowing wink at Momota.  
  
"Make one more homoerotic cat noise and you _will_ die," Hoshi says. This seems to effectively shut Ouma up. Harukawa blinks in awe, taking mental notes.  
  
"Anyway, you got anyone you wanna talk to?" Amami mutters, strolling beside him. He taps his shoulder, and then has his two fingers walks along it, from the base to his neck. Momota then slaps the hand away, looking to the ground for some type of comfort.  
  
"Mm?" Amami asks, looking at him with concern.  
  
Momota finds his feet heavy as he goes to the black beanbag that's in the corner of the  room. It’s not that far off, considering that the dorms are small. He slumps into it, feeling it surround him. A breath is released, but it sounds like a sigh as he puts his hand to his chin. He can feel the eyes of everyone bore into him at that moment.  
  
"Momota-cha-"  
  
_"Shut up!_ " he retorts violently, not bothering to look behind him.  
  
Amami goes to touch his shoulder again, only to be stopped by Yumeno. She says to leave him, and surprisingly, Hoshi grunts in agreement. Amami's smile then falters.  
  
Amami looks to the side, a whisper escaping him. He can feel his cheeks heat, his face tensing as he looks at Momota's distressed figure.  
  
A laugh from Angie pulls him back to the party, however. He puts on a front of contempt, but he can't help but worry about what he's done to Momota.  
  
"Momota-kun?"  
  
The voice beckons him to look up, and see those golden-gray irises Saihara has. Those golden-gray irises he found himself tumbling into.  
  
"U-Huwah?"  
  
Momota hugs him suddenly, not bothering to explain why. He can feel the center of his face heating and scrunching, and he can feel his eyes glaze over as he forces them shut. The puffy, stuffy sensation that only comes with crying fills his face, and he can feel the first tears sink in the waterlines of his eyes. He clings onto Saihara with a needy force, burying his head in the other's shoulder as he shakes ever so slightly.  
  
Confused, scared hands make their way to Momota's back, hovering for a moment. They then rest, as Saihara tries to embrace him with whatever he can. He's definitely not as strong as Momota, and it feels like he could shatter underneath him, so he just gently grasps at him, and remains there.  
  
Momota then pushes him away from the shoulders. Saihara looks at his face - red, and stricken with tears. His eyes are a light red, and the purple is brighter than he's ever seen it. His hair is knotted and distressed.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Saihara, I'm sorry, I ruined the party, I didn't mean to-"  
  
"Nonono! It's okay! Just tell me what's wrong!" he pleads back, not knowing what to do, or how to help him. He feels a sense of betrayal in his words - because last night he had been Shuuichi, and now he's Saihara again.  
  
"I-I-I-I-I-I..." Momota says, tripping over his words as they slur into something unintelligible on his tongue. He forces his eyelids shut again.  
  
"It's okay, just tell me so I can help!" Saihara begs him, his eyebrows furrowing.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Momota sighs, his hands, which had somehow become fists in the moment, finally release. His mouth opens, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I... love you," he says again, like it's a set of words in a language he's never spoken before. He blinks away the last of his tears, and a reluctant smile appears on his face.  
  
"W-W-What do you mean? Is something wrong?" Saihara stammers in disbelief.  
  
Momota stands up. His back arches as he stretches his arms, noting the pins and needles he feels in his left calf. He sighs, and begins walking away, only to be stopped by his hand being firmly grasped.  
  
"Explain, Momota-kun! I don't get it!" Saihara yells, pleading with him again.  
  
Momota reels, taking the hand Saihara had grabbed and scratching his head with it. "I said I love you, okay? Now can I leave and move to another country?"  
  
"N-No! There's... there's so much I don't get..." Saihara murmurs. He looks to the ground, as his lips purse.  
  
"Well, I don't get shit either, but it's not like it'll be explained to me," Momota huffs, taking another step towards the door.  
  
"I accept."  
  
Momota turns on his heel.  
  
(He doesn't notice the other partygoers stop “partying” as they look at him.)  
  
"Whaddya mean?"  
  
"I-I mean I accept, M-M-Kaito!" Saihara replies, his face flushing as he closes his eyes as he looks to the ground.  
  
"K-Kaito...?" the astronaut stammers, alarmed by the sudden use of his first name.  
  
"I don't know what you're doing, and I don't know what's going on at all, but if this is your weird way of saying you want to date me, then I accept, Kaito Momota!" Saihara declares. He decides in that moment that he should look Momota dead in the eyes.  
  
Momota's floored.  
  
"Y-Yer shitting me..."  
  
"N-No I'm not!" Saihara screams, almost like he's offended. He bawls his fists.  
  
"Y-You're serious about this? Y-You'll date me?!"  
  
Saihara looks up at him. He strolls up to him with a determined look, and his pupils are trained on Momota's.  
  
"Y-You're my boyfriend now, probably!" Saihara tries to yell, but it comes out like a half-certain plea.  
  
Shirogane begins cheering, and then she begins to clap. Everyone looks at her like she's a fucking idiot, because that's what she looks like right now. Even Momota and Saihara give her a confused stare.  
  
"Look what you've done. You ruined a perfectly gay moment. Now it's awkward," Akamatsu curses, crossing her arms.  
  
"So?" Iruma growls at Akamatsu, a cocky smile on her face. She gestures a hand out to Momota.  
  
"Get back to it, homo!"  
  
A few nods come out of the group, and Kiibo gives a thumbs up. Saihara giggles.  
  
He doesn't have much time to keep at it, however, as he's swept off his feet.  
  
"M-Momota-kun!"  
  
"Kaito, Kaito!" the other groans. He can hear Shinguuji do that stupid "kukuku" or whatever it is in the distance.  
  
"Kaito...?" Saihara then says, looking at him, confused.  
  
Momota chuckles. He then spins Saihara around, almost slamming their faces together as he dots Saihara's cheek with kisses.  
  
"All's gay that ends gay," Ouma giggles. Tenko puts a hand on his mouth to shut him up, but he licks it. The aikido practitioner shrieks as he draws her hand back, wiping it against her skirt.  
  
But Momota doesn't hear. He's too busy in the moment, the room spinning around him as he holds Saihara in his arms.  
  
And he thinks to himself, he can't wait to go in his contacts and change "Detective Friend"  to "Detective Boyfriend."

**Author's Note:**

> Looking over things, I feel like you can tell that I wrote this in a bunch of different sittings. Either that, or I'm way too critical on myself.
> 
> There were a lot of ideas I initially had for this fic that were scrapped, or things that I had imaginined one way in my head, but ended up being completely different in writing. Particularly, the ending. I had not intended for Momota to cry, but it happened, and here we are.
> 
> The title comes from 最百 (saimomo), which is the Japanese ship name for Saimota. Sometimes when I go on twitter, I'll find an image or two with that as the caption, and twitter translates that as "Last Hundred." I thought that was pretty cute, so I made that my fic title.
> 
> Anyway, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed! I poured my soul into this so I'd love to hear any thoughts you have on it!


End file.
